


Almost Like the Real Thing

by Hammocker, SocialDeception



Series: As Good as Equals [1]
Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Come as Lube, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Insanity, M/M, Masturbation, Misattribution of Arousal, One Shot, Power Dynamics, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Teasing, Waylon POV, Waylon is a coy little shit, erotic asphyxiation, on both ends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 14:48:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10026563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hammocker/pseuds/Hammocker, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialDeception/pseuds/SocialDeception
Summary: It would have been easy to leave him for dead, but standing over a bound Eddie Gluskin, the only things on Waylon's mind were revenge and arousal.





	

**Author's Note:**

> We wanted to write a short little one shot, but somehow it turned into 8684 words of filth instead. In short, we bring out the best and the worst in each other.

Waylon wasn't sure how it happened.

The only thing that he knew for sure was that he’d found a neon pink fleshlight in one of the offices that reminded him of his favourite pieces of Froot Loops. Against the protests of his higher reasoning, Waylon had taken it and carried it with him. Maybe he could blame the engine for the obvious insanity of carrying sex toys around with him, but at the moment he chose not to think too hard on anything at all. Honestly, he'd stopped thinking where the fleshlight might have been hours ago, using the soft insides as a makeshift stress ball whenever he was forced into tight lockers or under beds, hiding from the variants. Sometimes it seemed as though the toy was the only thing keeping him sane; he’d even devoted a clip to it, letting it hang off his belt like a normal flashlight. He refused to acknowledge what that might say about his mental state.

He hadn’t had much time with it down in Eddie’s lair, forced forward and backwards at the lunatic’s whim, so he was more than a little stressed out and unstable when Eddie’s pulley backfired and he got his own ankles and wrists tangled up with scratchy rope. Waylon had fallen to the ground as Eddie got pulled up towards the ceiling, knocking himself out in the process. A sane person would have run then, but the problem was that Waylon didn’t feel sane anymore. He was angry and ashamed, and he felt naked in more ways than one.

So, with Eddie incapacitated, his first instinct wasn’t to flee and escape. No, it was to finally get some payback.

That’s how Waylon found himself standing next to a tied and bound Eddie Gluskin, passed out cold, and somehow all he could think about was pink Froot Loops and lazy Sunday mornings.

A smirk formed on Waylon’s face, one he was unable to shake. For once, he had Eddie by the balls instead of vice versa. He wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

It was a process, moving Eddie without untangling him. One rope loosened here and another tightened there and he had Eddie down on the floor on a makeshift sled. With Eddie’s arms behind his back, Waylon had the opportunity to rummage through his pockets. Waylon found a set of keys, some crumpled medical records, and an all-too-familiar knife. He took everything and pocketed anything he might need.

Waylon was able to drag him along the floor with relative ease, and, using Eddie’s keys, he opened up what used to be an office and locked the door behind them. As he glanced around, Waylon slowly realized that he’d finally found where the dragon slept, so to speak. Eddie had transformed the previous office space into a makeshift bedroom, and Waylon took a moment to survey the room, despite who he was there with. A sofa in the corner had a few dirty sheets laid over it and its cushions were sunk in from heavy use. It was far too small for someone of Eddie’s size, but when one had no other options... Waylon wasn’t going anywhere near it.

Waylon silently thanked his parents for forcing him to join the local Boy Scouts as he started securing Eddie’s wrists and ankles to the two desks that Eddie had pushed together as a work station for an ancient sewing machine Waylon moved to a corner. Then he pulled on the ropes a few extra times just to be sure they’d hold. His Scout counselor had once told them he had tied down a bear with this knot, but Waylon wasn’t sure how true that story had been. Or if a bear even held a candle to an angry Eddie Gluskin.

He took a few steps back to admire his handiwork. It didn’t look like Eddie would be going anywhere anytime soon, and Waylon cautiously moved forward again, studying Eddie’s face. He’d thought that Eddie would seem less threatening once immobilized, but that didn’t hold true at all. Eddie was like a caged shark. Just because his teeth couldn’t quite reach didn’t mean that Waylon felt safe.

With his eyes kept firmly on Eddie’s still form, he moved away again so he could look through the rest of the room, but apart from the two desks and the sofa, there wasn’t really much else of interest to him. At least not until he walked closer to the sofa and realized there was a stack of golden coins on a side table. Waylon creased his eyebrows with confusion as he walked closer, until he realized it wasn’t coins at all, but a large collection of wedding rings.

Waylon felt the blood drain from his face when he let his fingers brush over the cool metal, realizing what the collection of rings meant.

“Don’t touch those,” Eddie mumbled behind him, as though he wasn’t sure of what he was saying. Waylon spun around on his heels. Eddie was slowly coming to, blinking a few times like he didn’t recognize the room straight away. “How’d you…?”

“Why shouldn’t I touch them?”

Eddie gazed about confused, and he kept blinking at Waylon with bloodshot eyes. “Darling?” he finally slurred, and tried to move his hand up. When it didn’t budge, Eddie looked down and, once he realized he was tied down, forcefully tried to yank himself free.

Waylon licked his dry lips, but the knots held.

“Why shouldn’t I touch them?” Waylon repeated.

“They aren’t for you,” Eddie snarled, rapidly gaining consciousness.

Waylon glanced at Eddie before picking up a handful of rings. Looking down at them again, his gaze skimmed over the inscriptions on the inside. “They weren’t for you either.”

Eddie opened his mouth, but quickly closed it again without a word. Then he seemed to debate himself for a moment, and when he spoke, his expression had morphed into a pleasant one.

“Darling, please undo these ropes. I’ll forgive you.” Eddie was smiling, or trying to smile, but the conflicting emotions on his face turned the expression sour. “It’s quite alright, a woman is allowed to be ridiculous at times.”

Waylon scoffed, and flicked one of the wedding rings at Eddie’s face. It hit him just above his right eyebrow and he flinched back from the pain.

“You slut!” he yelled once his face snapped back to Waylon’s, yanking on the restraints. “Just you wait, when I’m out of these ropes I’ll tear you to shreds!”

Waylon ignored him and tossed another wedding ring at his face, hitting the side of his mouth.

“Did you kill the owners of these rings? Take them off cold, dead fingers?” When Eddie didn’t answer, Waylon chucked another one, and Eddie barely dodged it by turning his head at the last moment. “You feel good knowing that wives and children are waiting for their loved ones to come back? Feel good knowing you’re breaking families apart?”

Something changed on Eddie’s face; a crack in whatever pretenses he wanted to portray. He snarled something unintelligible at Waylon, doing what he could to hide that crack. He was hissing and spitting like a trapped animal, and Waylon was surprised the knots were holding at this point.

Waylon circled him slowly. He hadn’t thought things through, he knew. He really had no idea what to do with Eddie now that he had him incapacitated and alone, just that he wanted some kind of revenge. Then he realized something interesting; even in his blind rage, Eddie was visibly aroused. Waylon dared to lean forward and size him up, face dangerously close to his snapping jaws. A bulge had formed between his legs and didn’t look to be subsiding.

Waylon knew that arousal and aggression could bleed together at times - he’d felt it firsthand in the asylum - but it was still something else to see the monster lurking in the halls having the exact same reaction, even if he wasn’t quite sure if it was relieving or terrifying.

“Yeah, you’re mad, I hear you,” Waylon said, moving his gaze away from Eddie’s crotch long enough to give one of the ropes a cruel tug. “That makes two of us.”

Eddie gritted his teeth and pulled against the ropes, but his anger was waning. Waylon couldn’t quite identify what was replacing it, but if he had to guess, he’d have said fear. That gave him a rush like nothing he’d ever felt.

“How’s it feel? Being strapped to a table like an animal?” Waylon asked, allowing an unfamiliar, mocking edge into his tone. “Not good?”

Eddie made to lunge up, jaws growing dangerously close, but never did Waylon flinch. He stared down the beast, even with fear in his heart.

“Didn’t feel too good when you had me like this,” he kept on. “You thought none of your “brides” would ever fight back?”

“You’re no bride, whore,” Eddie growled at him. “I want a wife, not a-”

“No, you don’t!” Waylon couldn’t keep the venom out of his voice this time. “You want someone to butcher, not marry, you fucking savage.”

“Savage?” Eddie shrilled, a laugh threatening to enter his voice. “I’m not the savage between us, you crazy bitch.”

“If I’m the savage, then what’s it say for you?” Waylon asked, a half-smirk crossing his face. “You’re the one strapped to the table.”

Eddie’s nose stayed crinkled, but he glanced down at the ropes holding him. He gave a noncommittal grumble and stared pointedly away from Waylon.

“Whore,” Eddie repeated, any bite gone from the word.

“Maybe I am a whore, at least I never tried to castrate anyone.”

“I was trying to make you perfect, darling.” The affection from what seemed like long ago had crept back into Eddie’s voice. “And you- you rejected me.”

“So you’d be just peachy if I decided “perfect” meant cutting you up like a piece of meat?” Waylon asked through his teeth, frustration bubbling to the surface.

“I wanted to help you. Take away your ugliness,” Eddie said, letting his head loll to the side.

“Aren’t you a charmer?” Waylon muttered. “Maybe I’m supposed to be ugly.”

Eddie glanced up at him for a split second, but kept silent. No wonder this guy couldn’t find a decent wife.

“Or maybe I should cut your “ugliness” off, have you thought about that?” Waylon asked, taking a step forward and drawing himself up. “Maybe you need to be perfect?”

For the first time, Eddie flinched back, confidence leaving his eyes. He swallowed thickly and squirmed against the restraints. His face paled a bit too, which Waylon observed with a sick sort of satisfaction.

“Let’s see what we’re working with,” Waylon smiled and reached for Eddie’s pants.

At that, Eddie let out something Waylon could only describe as a growl, and shifted to get away from Waylon’s hands. Not that it mattered. He was still securely tied down, and no amount of squirming would change that.

Once he realized he wasn’t going anywhere, Eddie started hyperventilating, thrashing about wildly. “You crazy bitch!” he screeched, panic lacing his words. “You crazy rapist bitch!”

Waylon didn’t let the words faze him, instead undoing Eddie’s belt, before untucking his shirt from his pants.

“Would you be more comfortable if I took it all off, or just your pants?”

Eddie stared at him, gaping like a fish, but said nothing. Seemed he was finally out of slurs to throw Waylon’s way.

“Mm, you’re right.” Waylon hummed, and started slowly unbuttoning Eddie’s crudely stitched vest. “You’ll be a lot more comfortable like this.”

Perspiration pearled on Eddie’s forehead, but still he said nothing. Waylon hated Eddie’s silence. It seemed mocking, somehow, like Eddie knew that Waylon didn’t have it in him to do this. Maybe Eddie could smell it on him, smell that Waylon was just prey playing predator.

Despite Eddie’s lack of reaction, Waylon knew he couldn’t back down now, so he started unbuttoning Eddie’s shirt once the vest was undone. He’d seen Eddie half-naked before, but it didn’t stop the grudge from forming when each snap of a button revealed hard, working man’s muscle. It seemed unfair for someone like Eddie to have a body like his. A real waste.

Eddie’s abdominal muscles clenched whenever Waylon’s fingers brushed against naked skin, and more than once he thought he heard Eddie whimper slightly under his breath.

“Not very fun, is it?” Waylon said while pressing a finger against Eddie’s stomach, feeling the muscle contract beneath it. “Being touched when you don’t want it?”

Eddie was breathing rapidly through his nose and his chest was rising and falling with increasing speed. 

“No,” Waylon concluded for him. “No, it isn’t.”

“Whore!” Eddie suddenly shouted, straining against the ropes again. “All you fucking ungrateful sluts! I should have gutted you when I had the chance!”

Waylon’s lips thinned at that, and he stared down at Eddie with a frown. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, or if he’d expected anything at all, but the shifts between apathy and unyielding anger only pushed Waylon closer to snapping.

“Then we continue,” Waylon sneered, echoing what Eddie had said before.

Waylon’s hands were trembling when he reached for Eddie’s fly, and he cursed himself for it, cursed his quiet, safe life that had never prepared him for anything like this. The rational parts of Waylon’s brain knew he was being more and more absurd, but at the moment his rage seemed to block out anything else.

A shiver went through Eddie when the first button popped open, and Waylon risked a glance up at Eddie’s face. He looked a little green, an unhealthy tint to his pale face that hadn’t been there before.

“Please, don’t,” Eddie finally whispered. “Please.”

“Did that help the other men on your table?” Waylon asked, fighting a shake in his voice. “Did you give a single shit when they begged?!”

Eddie clenched his jaws, and instead of looking at Waylon, he stared up at the ceiling. There was a moment where all life seemed to leave his eyes, like he was resigning himself to his fate in Waylon’s capture. Had his body not been trembling beneath Waylon’s hands, he’d have thought the man was dead.

He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop now, not after everything he’d been through. Without letting it really click what he was doing, he quickly undid the rest of the buttons and then pulled Eddie’s pants down over his hips.

He was still wearing tight, white underwear like he had the first time Waylon saw him, and a nervous giggle escaped Waylon’s lips. They had really come full circle now.

At least Eddie wasn’t aroused anymore. Somehow that made it easier when Waylon crossed that final barrier and pulled Eddie’s underwear down as well.

Maybe he could argue that it was cathartic doing this. That he’d escape the horrors of Mount Massive like himself, and not like the shell of a man he’d felt for the last- Waylon stopped and bit his lips. How long had it been now? He didn’t know. What he did know was that there was nothing therapeutic about this. He was shedding his humanity just like every other miserable creature in this godforsaken place. If he ever escaped, it would be as a monster.

Even so, when he looked at Eddie’s face, the shock of knowing that he was a changed man wasn’t enough to want to end it.

He’d pocketed Eddie’s knife just before dragging him over here, and he hadn’t been sure if he wanted to use it, or even threaten to use it. But now, with anger pulsing through his veins like a drug, more than anything he wanted to use it. The knowledge shook him to the core.

Eddie had been staring at the ceiling for a while, jaws clenched tight, but when Waylon brought the knife out, his gaze flickered Waylon’s way.

He had been hurt by more than one Variant, judging by the claw marks on his upper arms and the bruises forming where Waylon had seen fists connect, but somehow Eddie seemed defeated now, his face barely betraying a single emotion.

“You all deceive me,” was all he said before he went back to staring at the ceiling.

Even if Eddie’s voice didn’t betray anything, his body did. All of him was tensed and ready, his abdominal muscles quivering right below the surface of his skin.

It wasn’t enough. Maybe it would never be enough.

Waylon didn’t even know where to begin, or if he even wanted to know where to begin, but he studied the knife with interest. It was surprisingly clean, considering what he’d seen Eddie do with it. The metal wasn’t exactly pristine, but there were no obvious bloodstains or filth clinging to the blade. Maybe there was still some basic knowledge of infectious disease somewhere in Eddie’s mind, seeing as it smelled vaguely of disinfectant.

“What do you say? Should I start here?” Waylon carefully trailed the tip of the knife in a half circle below Eddie’s pectorals, and Eddie jerked at the contact. Waylon felt sick when the sudden movement had the knife nick Eddie’s skin and cause blood to start trickle down his chest, but he forced himself to continue. “Or here?” He moved the knife down to Eddie’s penis, but didn’t dare put the knife against it. Even so, Eddie still sucked breath in and held it until Waylon moved the knife away.

He was no longer glaring at the ceiling, instead his eyes were pinched together and Waylon realized that there were wet trails running down his temples. It would be an easy thing to make fun of, but somehow the sight made something crumple in Waylon’s chest.

“I could, you know,” Waylon mused, and, with no fanfare, he let the knife slip out of his fingers and clatter to the floor. “But I won’t. I don’t go around mutilating people just because I don’t like what they are. Even after all your shit.”

The tension didn’t leave Eddie’s body, but his face softened and he tilted his head at Waylon. Eddie’s brow had relaxed, his eyes had brightened from his tears, and he stared at Waylon as though was some kind of savior. It was like the act of not mangling him alone was one of great kindness. Jesus. When Waylon thought about it like that, he had to wonder about the extent of abuse that Eddie had gone through.

“Thank you,” Eddie whispered, squeezing his eyes shut with what looked like shame.

“Save it.”

Waylon had thought that, with the knife gone, he’d go back to feeling weak and defenseless, but he felt powerful. Maybe the same misplaced arousal that had gotten Eddie had bled onto Waylon as well, because his blood was running wild at the realization that he could do anything, _anything_ , he wanted with Eddie. His feelings had gone all wrong.

Pushing that thought further back in his mind, Waylon took the opportunity to run his hands up and down Eddie’s middle. Maybe it wasn’t wise - nothing here was after all - but Eddie had been so untouchable for so long that he couldn’t help but be curious. Eddie was enormous, hard muscled and tall, and he could have crushed Waylon easily if he wanted to. Waylon’s fingers trailed down his abdominals, unwashed, but powerful. Eddie had plenty going for him, Waylon had to admit. Given a shower or two, he would have been damn near presentable, handsome even. Maybe he was handsome in that moment as well, in his own way. Handsome enough to keep Waylon there, keeping up his exploration of Eddie’s flesh. Or maybe he’d still be doing the same even if Eddie wasn’t. Who could say anymore? What he did know was that with arousal came loss of control, the opposite of what he was after, but his hands didn’t obey his command to stop.

Eddie gasped lightly with each touch and did his best to squirm away from it. He shivered a bit, maybe from the cold, but maybe- oh. Eddie’s dick was twitching again. Now that was something that Waylon could work with.

“What’d you say about me being ugly?” he teased.

“Not ugly, only with ugliness,” Eddie corrected, holding Waylon’s gaze.

“Well then, since I’m obviously not good enough, maybe I’ll just leave you here.”

Eddie paled once again and he glared weakly at Waylon. He didn’t have to speak for Waylon to get the message: you wouldn’t dare. Waylon didn’t want to imagine what horrors would lie in store for Eddie if he left him down here tied and defenseless for the other variants.

“You never wanted me, you wanted pussy, didn’t you?” Waylon pushed. “And you got desperate.”

Eddie’s frown contorted with offense, but he didn’t glare or fuss. His power over Eddie was unbearably intoxicating. Waylon took the opportunity to unclip the fleshlight from his back pocket and brandish it with a smile.

“So you want pussy? Well, I got one.”

He turned the toy around, making sure that Eddie got a good view of the rubbery lips on it. Eddie eyed it with equal parts curiosity and disgust.

“Slut,” he hissed, wrinkling his nose.

“And maybe-” Waylon said, tapping the toy against Eddie’s middle. “-I’ll share if you’re nice.”

With that, Waylon turned from the table and settled down on Eddie’s sofa-bed. Eddie followed him with his eyes, tilting his head to get a decent view. His audience was invested. That suited Waylon just fine.

He leaned back on the sofa and made himself as comfortable as he could manage in the decrepit office. Setting the toy aside, Waylon fumbled to loose the zipper on the back of his uniform. It took a moment, but he finally managed to press it down and pulled the rest apart from there. He slipped it down and hissed at the chill of the air, but never stopped. Within a moment, he had it crumpled around his waist and was left with only his underwear blocking the way. He pushed that down as well, pulling his dick out.

Waylon looked up for a split second to see Eddie, wide-eyed and straining to look at him. He definitely didn’t look too pissed anymore.

“For someone who keeps calling this ugly, you seem pretty interested.”

Once again, Eddie’s nose wrinkled, but he didn’t look away for even a second. That gave Waylon a good laugh. God, that was nice, _laughing_ in this godforsaken place. He didn’t know when he’d laughed last. It was such a relief, even with a murderer just a few feet from him.

“Couldn’t do this around you,” Waylon said, licking his palm before giving himself a casual stroke or two. “Barely got any chance to in this place at all, but I did.”

In the near-silent room, Waylon caught Eddie’s breath picking up. He didn’t know what the consequences would be, but this was too good to not take advantage

“Would you have liked that? Catch me fucking this thing in a locker?” He dared giving Eddie a wicked smile. “Grab me and have your way with me?”

At those words, Waylon picked up the toy and pressed it up against the head of his cock. He let it linger that way for a good moment before sinking in with a heady groan. It was rubbery and not quite like a real vagina, but hell if it wasn’t tight.

“That’s all you wanted; not a mutilated wife, just a nice, warm hole to fuck.”

Eddie gave an indignant grunt. And even though his teeth were gritted, Waylon could still see his dick straining.

“Oh, but fucking me with my dick still attached, that would be such an indignity for you, wouldn’t it?” Waylon scoffed. “You’d probably rather just take the pussy and be done with me.”

Eddie’s mouth opened, but no words came out. If Waylon had to guess, he’d say that Eddie was probably going to protest. Good.

“Honestly, if you hadn’t been trying to kill me, I would’ve just given you the thing.”

He thrust the toy down onto himself, accenting his words with a sigh.

“And let me tell you, it feels great.”

Waylon couldn’t remember feeling so talkative in months. He hadn’t liked Eddie’s silent treatment initially, but the game seemed to be turning in his favor. It was kind of fun, teasing the big man. He might get his neck snapped for his trouble, but at least he’d go out with a bang. In fact, he could do better than this.

Waylon let himself give an exaggerated moan as he pulled the fleshlight off of himself and stood up. He ditched his shoes and the rest of his uniform and trotted over to Eddie. Eddie’s eyes followed him like a cat stalking a mouse, but they couldn’t seem to decide if they wanted to size up Waylon’s face or his dick.

He hauled himself up on top of Eddie, just over his thighs where his erection still strained. It definitely felt strange, straddling Eddie’s hips, but the haze clouding Waylon’s mind blocked out everything but the heat of Eddie’s body and the potent mix of fear, anger and arousal coursing through his veins. He quickly made himself comfortable, and got the fleshlight angled just next to Eddie’s erection.

Eddie’s pale eyes was fixed on Waylon’s face, even when Waylon rubbed his cock along the seam of the artificial vagina, smearing his precum across it, before slowly breaching it again.

Waylon groaned as he sank to the bottom of it, stilling for a moment before pulling back out, enjoying the sight of Eddie’s cock pulsing when he did.

“You like that, huh?” Waylon asked, pressing himself closer. “How long has it been since you had a warm and willing body in your lap?”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at the question, but the way his lips had gone slack took some of the venom out of the expression.

In a fit of aroused insanity, Waylon grabbed Eddie’s cock along with the fleshlight and grasped them tightly with both hands, before he angled his pelvis so he could thrust into the fleshlight. Eddie hissed and squirmed at the contact.

“Can barely hold you and the pussy,” Waylon panted and tightened his hold. “So big.”

Eddie’s eyes had gone wide, but they’d clouded over as well, and Waylon felt his hips moving upwards against his own when Eddie attempted to thrust against him despite the restraints and Waylon’s weight.

“I bet those big hands of yours would feel great on my hips just now,” Waylon breathed and quickened his pace. “I would’ve let you hours ago, you know, if I didn’t know how that’d end.” He laughed at his own words and rubbed his thumb along the pronounced vein running down Eddie’s cock.

It was like something out of a nightmare, the two of them, rutting together like animals, covered in filth and blood and with Eddie’s ruined face that somehow translated into something else in Waylon’s mind.

The primal parts of Waylon’s brain seemed to have almost taken over completely, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from coming all over Eddie’s abdomen. At the moment all he wanted was to mark and be marked by Eddie, to be forced down on all fours and fucked. It was a strange feeling, different from curious thoughts during adolescence or the haze of early morning showers, but terrible and all encompassing. This arousal was heavily saturated and all-consuming, claiming all of Waylon completely, and he felt like laughing and crying all at once.

Maybe the insanity that had bled into the very walls of this place had finally seeped into Waylon as well, because he held Eddie bloodied gaze as he finally tipped over the edge, groaning as his release coated the inside of the fleshlight.

“Oh, God, that’s so good,” Waylon groaned, letting his head loll backwards and his eyes roll up.

He pumped himself for an extra few seconds, milking himself dry, before finally pulling the toy off with a pop.

“Bet you want a crack at this now,” Waylon said, refocusing on Eddie.

Every muscle in Eddie’s body seemed to twitch with anticipation and his cock had gone almost purple with sheer pressure. He wasn’t looking at the fleshlight, though, he was staring intently at Waylon.

“Oh, yeah, I know you do.” Waylon brought the toy’s opening down against Eddie’s belly, dragging some of the lingering fluid over it. “You haven’t exactly been nice, but I _guess_ you’ve been nicer than usual.”

Eddie gave a grunt and his face betrayed only uncertainty, but Waylon was going to take that as polite confirmation.

“Want to say please for me?” he asked, teasing the entrance over Eddie’s cock.

The easy slide of damp latex over skin had Eddie growling once more, but he still wasn’t speaking. Waylon worked him over with the thing for a good couple minutes before he gave in.

“Hmph.” Waylon clicked his tongue. “And you think you’re some kinda gentleman?”

Eddie’s glare returned, but only for a half-second before Waylon slotted the still slick toy over him. God, even without feeling it himself, Waylon could tell that the fit was almost too tight for Eddie.

That much would explain the shrill cry that Eddie gave, his hips bucking as far as they’d go.

“Told you it was good,” Waylon chirped, holding the toy still. “Bet it’s even better for you with my cum still inside.”

He could practically see every muscle in Eddie’s body contract at that idea. Eddie’s eyes were glued to him once more, his face flushed. Waylon laughed and slid a couple inches back, giving himself a better grip and a better view of Eddie’s cock.

He’d had a perfectly good view of Eddie for a while now, but he hadn’t let himself dwell too much on exactly how massive it was. Waylon wasn’t touching it directly, but he could feel its weight, hot and heavy in his hand. Waylon had the strangest urge to suck it or even just nose it a little. He wasn’t going to; he couldn’t give Eddie that kind of satisfaction, but he could admire from a safe distance.

It wasn’t only his cock that was impressive either, Waylon realized. Eddie’s balls, even drawn up and tight, were proportionately huge. Waylon wouldn’t even have needed to take the fleshlight off to get his mouth on them. That wasn’t an option either, but he could indulge himself a little.

Waylon let his free hand wander down to cup Eddie’s balls, just lightly. Eddie tensed even worse under the touch, but Waylon didn’t let up. They were a decent handful, that was for sure. Waylon had to wonder if the size of them had any effect on how much he could come. He’d just have to see for himself, he supposed.

Eddie relaxed a bit after a few moments in his hands. Waylon could almost map out his thought process. I haven’t been hurt yet, Eddie would think, so why would I be now? Not a bad train of thought, but maybe Eddie shouldn’t have let his guard down anyway.

Waylon seized the opportunity to pump the toy hard. Like clockwork, Eddie yowled like he’d been hit by a truck. Putty in Waylon’s hands. Eddie was at his mercy and it felt so, so good. After the initial bang, Waylon set his pace slow.

“You like that?” Waylon asked, sliding the toy up and down, easy and deliberate. “You thinking about fucking me? Thinking that’s what I’d feel like? With my slick and all?”

Eddie was pulling at his restraints again, staring at Waylon with an expression that could only be described as want. Unbearable, unquellable want. Waylon could have drowned in it by just looking at him. He had to look away, back down to Eddie’s dick.

“Bet I’d feel even better.” He pouted a bit and added regretfully, “But you wouldn’t want to fuck me just like I am, would you?” He pressed his cock up against Eddie’s hip. “That’d be vulgar.”

He gave the fleshlight a few casual thrusts, almost pulling it off before shoving it back down and drawing stifled grunts from Eddie.

“Oh, well. I guess this thing’ll have to do.” Waylon barely knew what he was saying before he said it anymore. “You’re a real man’s man, after all, you’d never go for a whore like me.”

It looked like Eddie wanted to say something, to protest even, but he stayed quiet. It was remarkable, really, how stoic he could be, even with sweat gathering on his brow and Waylon’s semen leaking down his cock.

“It’s a shame, really,” Waylon said, pumping the toy up and down in a casual rhythm. “You’re pretty handsome like this.”

Eddie gave him a long blink, gaze as intent as a falcon watching its dinner. His hips bucked up in a more measured movement, like wheels were turning in his head even through all the intensity.

“Think you’re getting close?” Waylon goaded. “Want me to go harder?”

Eddie gave him nothing more than a defiant grunt, even as the sweat rolling off of him gave Waylon the answer.

“Going once, going twice…” Waylon dragged the toy up Eddie’s cock, ready for Eddie to spill at any moment.

“I want _you_ ,” Eddie gritted out suddenly.

Waylon paused, but he couldn’t stop the smirk that came over his face.

“You got me, I’m right here,” he said, pumping the fleshlight again.

Eddie roared with frustration and pulled at his restraints with a newfound strength.

“I don’t want that damn thing, I want you!”

His neck strained and his upper half lifted as far as it would go. Eddie’s eyes had gone wild and Waylon couldn’t even see his irises anymore, just inky voids in pools of red. Waylon was drunk on arousal and power and he couldn’t help but want to rile him up even more.

“But I thought I was a whore? A whore with dirty bits on me too.” Waylon rubbed his rapidly hardening cock against Eddie’s. “Surely you’d have to-”

“I don’t have to do anything!” Eddie shouted, jerking his wrists back and forth in a frenzy. “I want you! I want to know you! I want us to consummate our love!”

Waylon could just about see the foam flying from Eddie’s maw. He should have been scared, but, truth be told, his own arousal was creeping up on him again.

“If I cut the ropes-” Waylon started, leaning down towards Eddie’s face. “-what would you do?”

Eddie blinked a few times before the corners of his lips raised and he gave Waylon a gnarled, predatory smirk. Waylon felt like things had suddenly spiraled out of his control, and Eddie could somehow sense that.

“Well?” Waylon asked, and immediately regretted saying anything at all, because his voice had gotten a slight tremor to it.

“Come closer and I’ll tell you,” Eddie murmured and Waylon was struck by how lucid he sounded. Maybe that was part of why Mount Massive was so terrifying; that he could never tell what state of mind any of them would be in, or for how long. Waylon considered it for a moment before crawling up farther towards Eddie and leaning in.

He had expected Eddie to whisper something to him, but instead he lurched forward and bit down on Waylon’s neck. Waylon gasped and braced himself against Eddie’s powerful shoulders. He imagined Eddie breaking skin and tearing the flesh right off Waylon’s bones, and he jolted in fear. Yet, once his heart calmed a little, he could tell that he hadn’t broken skin. If anything, it was only a lovebite. On top of that, the movement had their cocks slide together, and Eddie groaned against Waylon’s neck before sweeping his tongue across the slight bruising.

“If you untie me, darling, I’ll fuck you ‘til you can’t walk.”

It shouldn’t have been sexy, but Waylon’s breath hitched at the words. Waylon fumbled to stand and retrieve the knife from the floor. One moment it was in his hands, the next moment the blade was against the rope around one of Eddie’s wrists. He had a brief moment of clarity and paused enough to look down at Eddie’s face.

Eddie’s smirk had widened to a grin, and at Waylon’s hesitation he sank back. “I’ll grab those hips like you said you wanted and show you what I want.”

It sounded like a threat. Maybe it was a threat, but suddenly the knife had slid between the rope and Eddie’s skin, and with a quick slash he was free.

Waylon leaned back on his heels, and despite the fear of letting the monster out of his cage, his erection hadn’t subsided in the slightest.

Eddie was still for a fraction of a second, seemingly as surprised by the turn of events as Waylon before he shot forward. In the process, the fleshlight was knocked to the floor from where Waylon had set it down, suddenly useless and forgotten. The rope was still tied to Eddie’s other wrist, but with nothing to anchor it to, it just dangled uselessly when Eddie wrapped both arms around Waylon’s waist and pulled him in for a kiss.

It was all teeth and tongue at first, Eddie’s frenzy flaring up with he had Waylon in his arms. He dug his fingers into Waylon’s flesh with a growl against his lips. Waylon gasped against the onslaught, and rubbed himself against Eddie with fervor.

More than anything it was the contrasts between them that got to Waylon. Eddie’s sheer mass and monstrous strength. Even more so when Eddie got the knots around his ankles loosened and he could kick them off, because despite not being a small man Waylon was dwarfed by Eddie as he hoisted him up in his arms. Waylon was stark naked, compared to Eddie who was still somewhat clothed, and Eddie crossed the floor so he could press Waylon’s back against the wall. Maybe it was more than just the contrast between Eddie’s chapped and scarred lips and Waylon’s soft ones, but the sudden change back to their earlier roles. How easy it had been for Waylon to relinquish his control over Eddie, to surrender into Eddie’s arms.

“I’m gonna tear you apart,” Eddie growled against Waylon’s lips, and Waylon shuddered beneath his touch. This was danger, and his body kept releasing a mind-numbing cocktail of hormones that made his heart race and his body tense. He’d already climaxed once, but he was flushed, hard and aching, and he wanted nothing more than to be torn apart by Eddie, to succumb to the asylum once and for all.

“Do it,” Waylon hissed. “Fucking do it.”

Waylon had his arms and legs wrapped around Eddie’s body, and he held on harder when Eddie let go so he could rub his cock against Waylon’s ass. It was still sleek with Waylon’s ejaculate and Eddie didn’t have to use much force to start breaching Waylon.

For a moment it really did feel like Eddie was tearing him apart. Waylon threw his head back with a strangled cry and dug his blunt nails into Eddie’s shoulder, which gave him nothing but a growl in return.

“Stop-” Waylon gasped weakly. There wasn’t much heat behind the word, and Eddie just grinned widely at him.

“You cut me loose, you filthy slut,” Eddie groaned and despite Waylon’s protests he pressed himself all inside until he was fully sheathed in Waylon’s ass. “I told you what would happen if you cut me loose.”

And he had. It shouldn’t have come as a big surprise to Waylon, but the feeling of Eddie’s solid weight against him and the panicked feeling of being filled to the breaking point still had him hyperventilating and clenching around Eddie’s cock. He felt trapped inside himself, with a sense of fullness nothing else had prepared him for. Waylon had previously thought of himself as prey and Eddie as a predator and it had never felt more true than at that exact moment. Eddie growled against Waylon’s neck as he pulled out, before thrusting deeply back into Waylon’s body. Everything about him was big, primal and dangerous and somehow it fed into the irrational need Waylon had to be taken.

“Tighter than any woman,” Eddie groaned and pressed another sloppy kiss to Waylon’s mouth, which was hanging open from the sensations of finally getting fucked.

Everything at the asylum had felt dirty and hideous, and this did as well. At the same time Waylon had the feeling that this was what his body was made for. That he was built to get fucked. He was writhing against Eddie, feeling his body stretch and expand to accommodate Eddie’s girth. The feeling was as contradictory as everything else. It felt unnatural and wrong, but so completely right at the same time. He was an animal more than a man, no deeper intellectual thought than the primal need to get fucked.

And, oh, did Waylon need to get fucked. His earlier orgasm hadn’t quelled the need to be filled up and taken. If anything it had fueled it, and all he wanted was for Eddie to fulfill his earlier promise of fucking Waylon until he could no longer stand.

“Fuck me,” Waylon panted and rolled his hips against Eddie’s punishing thrusts. “I want to get fucked, so what are you waiting for?” 

Eddie had pushed himself firmly against Waylon’s body, his hips angled just right to hit every single spot inside Waylon that made his pleasure center light up. If Waylon was made to get fucked, then Eddie was built for fucking. It was evident in every powerful line of his body and the hard, forceful movements that stole Waylon’s breath away for every thrust.

When Eddie suddenly pulled out, Waylon tried to arch his body back into the caress, to which Eddie gave a dark chuckle.

“On all fours,” he rasped, and with a turn and a sweep Waylon found himself with the filth on the floor. Eddie shed his opened shirt and vest, and without a word he flipped Waylon around.

Waylon barely had time to catch himself before Eddie had his hands on his hips, hoisting his lower body up enough for him to sink back into him. Waylon gasped against the grit and the blood on the floor, until Eddie yanked him back into his thrust, and the gasp turned into a drawn-out moan.

“Mmm, better, I can-” Eddie murmured and pressed his hands down the small of Waylon’s back so he was forced to arch his back further. “I can fuck you like the bitch you are.”

This was demeaning. Wasn’t it? Somewhere deep inside Waylon he knew he should protest against the words, but he was too far gone to care. His cock was aching at this point, starved for stimulation that Eddie seemed unwilling to give. Instead he buried his hand in Waylon’s sweaty locks and pulled his head sharply to the side so he could claim Waylon’s mouth for his own. 

“Slut,” Eddie slurred against his lips, pistoning in and out of Waylon until Waylon crumbled under the weight and slumped down to the floor. “This is what you get for teasing me.”

“So you’re not so dignified after all, huh?” Waylon dared, craving whatever he could get for his teasing.

Eddie gave a grunt and a powerful blow across Waylon’s ass before digging his fingers into Waylon’s hips. “Filthy slut,” he hissed. “Don’t get lippy with me.”

“Why not?” Waylon pressed, baring his teeth. “You like having an excu-”

Before he could finish, Eddie had grabbed the back of his head and shoved his face into the ground, dragging it along the coarse wood. Waylon’s neck only moved an inch or two, but fuck. He let out a muffled whimper and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I’ll teach you manners yet,” Eddie said, his voice completely lucid once again. “You need taming, don’t you, you minx?”

Waylon shuddered under his hands. He would have nodded had he had the room.

“You wanted me to force you down,” Eddie continued, chuckling into his ear. He’d gone disturbingly still. “Wanted to make me work for it, hunt like an animal for it. Perfectly natural, darling.” Eddie drew a shuddering breath. “But what happens once I’ve caught you?”

Waylon groaned and tried to push back against Eddie, for him to keep sliding in and out of him, but Eddie didn’t budge.

“Tell me, darling,” Eddie’s hand snaked up around Waylon’s neck and squeezed. “What happens then?”

Waylon’s head was swimming. He hadn’t thought that far. Truth was that he hadn’t really thought at all. Nothing beyond primitive urges of aggression and lust.

“Fuck,” Waylon drawled, and earned himself another solid slap across his backside. The pain had him flinch and clench, and he thought he could feel Eddie twitch within the tight confines of his body. The thought of that, of Eddie being buried deep inside him, was surreal. Surreal and almost inconceivably erotic. 

“Tell me,” Eddie continued and dug his fingers a little deeper into Waylon’s throat. “What happens when the wolf catches the lamb?”

Waylon knew the answer. Of course he did. When the wolf caught the lamb, the lamb was devoured, like Mount Massive had done with everyone inside. But it was more than that, Waylon realized, for he was allowing himself to be ravaged and mangled. Not in the same way as Eddie had mutilated his other brides, but the first to be completed.

And he knew what Eddie wanted to hear, and so he panted the words out into the air, feeling Eddie’s restraints fray at the edges before breaking completely.

“Yours,” Waylon groaned. “The lamb is yours.”

The dam broke. Or, Waylon’s brain argued, a more apt description would have been that the animal he thought he’d released broke free for real. Eddie started pounding into him, and despite giving the right answer, Eddie still tightened his hold on Waylon’s neck. Then again, maybe that was why he did it.

If Waylon had any strength left in his hands, he’d try to claw Eddie’s hand off his neck, but he was powerless to stop him. For a fleeting moment he wondered if the women Eddie had mutilated and killed had gone out this way, but then black dots started swarming in front of his eyes, and the thought was gone.

It felt like a fever dream, grinding his cock against the filth on the floor, with Eddie pounding into him. He felt like a pressure cooker and if he didn’t climax soon, his mind would burst. His previous orgasm seemed a million miles away, his body ached like he hadn’t had any release in years, and when he ground his cock against the floor in rhythm with Eddie’s thrusts, he actually grew dizzy. Or perhaps that was simply Eddie’s hold on his jugular.

Eddie had gone quiet again, but his breathing was increasingly ragged, hitching every now and transforming into desperate groans. Waylon hadn’t liked his silence on the desk, but here, firmly embedded in Waylon’s ass, rutting like an animal, it felt just right. 

He meant what he had written to Lisa. This really was the shortest distance between violence and ruined lust. He just hadn’t imagined being that middle point. Some macabre part of him wondered if Lisa ever felt like this during their lovemaking. This intense feeling of being filled and claimed and taken and pulled apart all at once. The thought of Lisa almost had his mind break forth into reality, but then Eddie licked the juncture of his his neck and everything went back to darkness. And in that darkness he only managed a few more slick thrusts against the floor before his release shot through him like wildfire. He came with a strangled cry, each pulse of his cock causing his ass to clench tightly around Eddie.

The rhythmic throb had Eddie bite down on Waylon’s shoulder, his teeth sinking down into soft flesh, and with a guttural groan he came as well, emptying himself inside Waylon. Waylon swore that he could feel Eddie’s cock pulsate inside him, and he gasped at the feeling.

Waylon shuddered as Eddie pulled out, though, he couldn’t even squirm anymore. He felt Eddie’s release escape him and drip down his thigh, but instead of feeling revolted, he felt good. It was satisfying and even comforting after such intense sex.

Eddie collapsed on top of him, placing a few kisses to the bruising on Waylon’s neck and shoulder. Even though they didn’t speak, the silence was comfortable, and for the first time since he had been thrown into this nightmare, Waylon felt his breath and heartbeat even out, and his body relax. It didn’t even speed up as Eddie gathered Waylon into his arms. He rumbled as he rearranged the two of them on their sides, the sound almost like a big cat’s purr. Eddie was warm, and Waylon sighed in contentment as he curled himself closer to the pleasant heat.

“Darling,” Eddie’s lips were ghosting across Waylon’s skin. “I seem to have forgotten your name.” He sounded sheepish, and Waylon smiled in the half-darkness.

“Waylon,” he answered after a pause. “My name’s Waylon.”

“Waylon,” Eddie repeated dreamily, and hearing his name from those lips broke something further inside Waylon’s chest. “I knew I’d find you, Waylon.”

“Find me?” Waylon asked softly. He didn’t move away when Eddie kissed his neck.

“My pearl,” Eddie murmured. “My darling pearl.” The last words were whispered against Waylon’s lips, as Eddie kissed him softly. Waylon deepened the kiss and his chest swelled with the affection Eddie put into his caresses. When he finally pulled away Waylon was breathless, and he resumed his position curled in Eddie’s arms.

It was nice, being able to fall asleep comfortably, not bent in awkward positions in vents and lockers. He hadn’t felt safe for so very long that the sudden calm had him pleasantly drowsy. Even if he fell asleep here, he knew he could sleep in peace. Even if someone came upon them, he knew that Eddie would protect him.

The thought had him open his eyes in the darkness, staring blindly into nothing. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought that he’d lost his mind, but it was the most profound. Deep down he knew there was no real protection in resigning himself to Eddie. He laid there quietly, waiting for Eddie’s breathing to even out in sleep, before he carefully untangled himself from Eddie’s hold.

Once on his own two feet, legs trembling like a newborn foal, he spent a few moments staring down on Eddie’s sleeping form. He had great sympathy for the broken man by his feet, and he felt cold and alone outside of his hold. Which was exactly why he turned around to retrieve his jumpsuit, and didn’t turn back as he made his way to the door.

He paused briefly once he got there, but kept his gaze forward. Once he crossed this threshold, then it was over. He’d leave everything behind, including the fleshlight and feelings of bloodlust and revenge. After a few heartbeats he quietly opened the door and closed it behind him as he left. Once safe on the other side he scuttered down Eddie’s halls, desolate without Eddie stalking them, and ran for the exit.

Maybe he’d come back for Eddie somehow. Get him the treatment he so desperately needed. Or maybe he’d just run until his feet gave out and his lungs collapsed. Either way he knew he wanted Mount Massive burned to the ground, reduced to rubble and forgotten by the world, even if his own memories wouldn’t fade.

But more than anything else, Waylon wanted a big bowl of Froot Loops. He made a mental note to get some as soon as he was free again.


End file.
